The Little One
by loweariel36
Summary: Marko returns to Santa Carla in the first time in years. There's something omnious about the coastal town. Something had changed since his childhood summers. He meets David, Paul, and Dwayne and knows he has met the perfect group of friends. But when they offer Marko to become one of them, he might just have to take them up on their offer.
1. Santa Carla

_"Cry, older sister - Thou shall not fall  
Come, come to your brother - Thou shall not die  
Unchain me sister - Thou shall not fear  
Love is with your brother - Thou shall not kill_…hey!"

The radio cut off, and he glowered at his sister. "What's the big idea? That song had a nice tune." Rolling his eyes, he leaned back in his seat and placed his dark boots on the dash.

"Marko, shut up! It's a good song when you're not trying to annoy me. We were having a nice drive. We almost made it. Just give me ten more minutes."

"You don't want to unchain me?"

"You're so weird!"

"I can sing though?"

"Get the lyrics right next time."

"I could have sworn they said older sister instead of little," he mused, eyeing Skylar. He watched her frown and focus her hazel gaze on the road. "I'm so glad you want to talk to me. We've only been in here all day. Give me a break."

Marko's fingers went to his hair, playing with the long, dirty blond locks. He pulled the mirror down and fixed his curly hairstyle. The sunlight lulled him to sleep earlier; Skylar received her peace hours ago. "I've been wanting to get my ear pierced," he mentioned, trying to start conversation.

"I can't believe you just said that. Mom and Dad would never approve. They just bought you a motorcycle. Isn't that enough?" she grumbled, giving him an anxious glance.

"They let you get your ear pierced. What's the difference?" Marko narrowed his blue eyes and stared at the rearview mirror. A trailer holding a sleek, maroon motorcycle carted behind her Toyota Cressida. He surveyed the Pacific Ocean as mighty waves slammed against the rocky cliff and sent spray into the coast air. Seagulls cawed and dived towards the saltwater, rising with fish in their beaks. He pouted while the sun drifted closer to the horizon.

"It's different. They already have a hard time dealing with your…uh," Skylar trailed off as if searching for a word.

"Style?"

"Yeah, your style," she affirmed, trying not to chuckle. Marko was certainly a character in their old town, but he should feel at home in Santa Carla. They visited their relatives as kids, but their parents refused to let them return for the past ten years over money issues. She really missed her Uncle Rick, Aunt Ruth, and her cousin, Alex.

"What's wrong with it?" he demanded.

"Oh, nothing. There's nothing wrong with it."

"Alright, stop giving me looks then. I'm not going to become a rocker or anything," Marko grumbled, hating how his family breathed down his neck. His parents treated him like the baby even though he turned eighteen a month ago.

"Well, you look like one. I think that's what they're concerned about."

Marko groaned and stuck one of his boots out the window, reclining further. "Would I be me if I looked normal? I'm glad that I get two months of space. I can do whatever I want now." The thought brought a cheeky smile to his face - _freedom._ He suffered enough by being restricted from his motorcycle; he studied long and hard to get his license!

"I just hope they recognize you. They might think I picked up a hitchhiker or something."

He reached over and socked Skylar lightly. Irritably, he turned the radio back on and listened to classic rock. Marko still felt bitter about being interrupted earlier. Humming along, he told himself not to speak with his sister. She insulted him enough for the rest of the summer.

The Cressida drove around a bend and approached a large sign in the distance. Marko sat up straighter with a wide smile. Welcome to Santa Carla spread across the sign in large yellow-orange letters, displaying a paradox. The sign represented the landscape around them and a replica sign within the picture. It's just how he remembered. They passed the sign behind, and he noticed graffiti covering the entire backboard. "Murder Capital of the World?" Marko repeated, concerned. "Hey, did you see that?"

"No, I'm driving."

Leaning out the window, he squinted at the shrinking sign. Multiple paint shades smeared the sign with vulgarity and Santa Carla's nickname in the center. "Do you remember that? The gang activity can't be too bad," he urged.

"I remember Mom and Dad telling us to go inside before dark. Santa Carla was just recently renovated, but I know it's reputation isn't great. We're staying in a good neighborhood though. It should be nothing to worry about. Most cities have better nicknames, you know! The tourists never notice. They're looking ahead and not back. I'm surprised the authorities haven't cleaned it up," Skylar insisted, giving the steering wheel a beat.

"Whatever, like we're going to listen to that, huh? Huh? It'll be me, you, and Alex. This will be the best summer ever. I'm telling ya!" The road wound close to the edge of the cliff, and he knew this would be a fun place to bike. The adrenaline rush already sent his hands rubbing in anticipation. Marko sighed with contentment and thought about the Boardwalk and forest trails. He followed their surroundings and remembered the familiar landmarks from his childhood. Nostalgia swelled inside him at the beautiful change in scenery.

They traveled down a slope and turned away from the cliff side. Mismatched buildings bordered them, displaying their bright beach colors. Sand blew across the sidewalks and mixed with the wind naturally. Pedestrians trekked in sandals; red sunburns covered many of the townsfolk. "I missed this place so much," he whispered.

He kept his eyes glued to downtown and scanned hopefully. The Santa Carla Beach Boardwalk, the West Coast's oldest surviving seaside amusement park, dominated and attracted tourists from far and wide. The peak of the Giant Dipper reached up and graced the pink sky, preparing to be lit up for the night. "There she is! Woohoo!" Marko shouted, yelling out the window.

Skylar seized his arm promptly and tugged him back inside. "Control yourself. It's just a rundown amusement park! That rickety wooden coaster is going to fall apart any day now."

Marko gave his sister a deep frown and shrugged his arm away. "Hey! I'm just trying to have fun. I have Senior year, and then it's off to college. I only have two months to live the rest of my life."

"That's ridiculous. You have more freedom in college than anywhere else. I swear, if Mom and Dad were here-"

"They're not, okay? After college, I'll have to settle down. Then, I won't have freedom anymore. Mom and Dad never gave me that. They always let you go out with your friends and have fun. This is my only chance while Mom and Dad finish selling the house." _I'll have to grow up and take on responsibilities. I'm not sure I'm ready for that._

He ignored his sister's curse words and sunk lower in his seat. The Boardwalk began to disappear behind them. Marko forlornly watched a coaster car reach the peak and shoot down the incline. Rubbing his forehead, he formed a plan of action for when they arrived. Alex should be home, and he knew his cousin would tag along. The old amusement park beckoned for him to return later. He relaxed as he pictured the night - playing games, listing to calliope music, and meeting hot ladies. Marko dreamed of Santa Carla days before they left. The vacation came as a surprise; their parents wanted them to be out of the house while business finalized. He sneakily assumed they were looking to buy in the beach town.

They rumbled into a neighborhood structured on a sharp hill. The houses stretched apart with large properties surrounding them. He forgot about the land his relatives owned. The forest edged the dirt pathway and drew its line about a half mile away. He kept an eye out for the russet farmhouse and grinned when it came into view. Knick knacks dotted the lawn from birdhouses to gnomes in the garden. Thankfully, their second home remained the same. The car pulled into the drive and parked beneath a wooden shelter; vines grew up both sides, twining through the square openings.

Marko slid out with a mischievous smirk. He crossed beside the car and hopped onto the cart. His fingers worked on the rigging and rubbed the handlebars of his motorcycle. "Soon, baby," he crooned, marveling at the bike. Backing up, he led the bike off the cart and parked it to the side.

"Marko, is that you?"

He turned as a voice called his name, smiling at his Aunt Ruth. The older woman crossed over to him with short, graying hair. His aunt dressed in a flowered skirt and wore a purple vest; she seemed to have a little pep in her step. "Hey!" he greeted.

The older woman hugged her nephew tightly and rubbed his back. "I promised you'd be taller than your sister. Oh, don't you look just adorable with your hair," she exclaimed.

"Don't mess up the do!" he complained, grinning childishly. He allowed his aunt to grab a few strands and examine its length. "Well, I'm tall enough." Marko hated his small stature but came to terms when he stopped growing. His father taught him how to hold his own in a fight.

"You know, a lot of the kids around here have their hair the same way. It's in style, isn't it?"

He nodded and shifted his hair behind him. "Well, not where I'm from."

"Just the cool cats?"

"Naturally," he agreed, laughing. Marko waved to his Uncle Rick when he approached, giving him a firm embrace.

"I see your parents finally gave," the man observed, nodding to the motorcycle.

"Yeah, they sure did. I got my license and everything. I would have saved up for the bike, got a job or something. I'm just glad they saw things my way," Marko explained.

"I put a good word in for you. I told your mother about all the kids driving them around here. You'd be out of place!" He gave a hearty laugh and clapped Marko on the back. "C'mon boy, you need to unpack. Dinner should be ready soon. We expected you to arrive much later."

Leaning close to his uncle, the man kept an arm around his shoulders. He scooped up his suitcase and placed it in the downstairs guest room. Skylar already claimed the upstairs guest room with the large closet, but he was content with the portable TV. Dropping his clothes on the bed, he'd bust out the hangers later. Marko observed his room and the pale wallpaper, missing this home. He walked over and touched the wall fondly before spotting a photograph. "Oh, man."

He knelt by the nightstand and studied a photo of Alex, his uncle, and himself. His head stopped just below his uncle's shoulder, and dimples formed near his lips. "I can't believe that was me," he mumbled. Marko rubbed dust off the photo with his thumb, snickering at Alex's dark, ratty hair. He heard his cousin grew up to be quite the stud despite his last memory of him. Of course, his uncle took up most of the photo. He shaved off his beard, and his hair grew significantly grayer. "I need to keep one of these." His wallet required a picture of the entire family.

Marko exited his room and smelled spaghetti and meatballs instantly. He entered the kitchen and searched for Alex. "Hey, is Alex home?"

"No, hun. He had to go to work. He wanted to stay and meet you guys when you arrived. You'll see him in the morning," his aunt replied.

Sighing, he leaned against the counter top and felt the overwhelming urge to ride. "Can I go down to the Boardwalk?" The question escaped before he knew it.

"You just got here. Aren't you hungry?" Ruth insisted, draining water from the pasta. She studied her nephew in his worn jeans and black tank top. His determined sister forced them to drive all day. He must feel cooped up; Ruth didn't blame him. Setting the spaghetti on the counter, she exchanged a short stare with her husband.

"I wanted to ask Alex, but he's not here. Can I go for a little while?" Marko pleaded, leaning against the counter.

"I don't know, Rick. It's not safe on the Boardwalk anymore. What with all of the missing-,"

"Marko is responsible. Alex was talking about taking them down there. The band is supposed to be playing tonight," Rick interrupted, raising a hand to quiet his wife.

Furrowing his gaze, he wondered what his aunt meant by missing. Skylar warned him about the surfers and stoners alike. He appreciated his uncle sticking up for him. "Please? I've been stuck with Skylar all day. She didn't stop for food or anything."

"I noticed all of the chip crumbs everywhere. You're cleaning that up tomorrow," his sister snapped, glaring.

"What was I supposed to eat? You refused to feed me," Marko grumbled and crossed to the hallway. He backed up like they confirmed his chance to leave. "Don't talk to strangers and don't take food or drinks from anyone. I know!"

"You better be back by midnight, or I'm calling the cops," Ruth threatened, raising a pointed finger. Worry reflected in her eyes. She wanted to ask her niece to go with Marko, but Skylar smartly voiced her opinion about the amusement park. Of course, it was bad news.

"Woohoo!" he shouted, jumping like a child. Retreating to his room, he dug through his suitcase and uncovered his homemade riding jacket. His mother bought him a jean jacket for his birthday; he made a few improvements to match his ego. The clothing transformed into a collage of patches and absurd colors. An array of skull patches scattered its surface while leopard print coated his right forearm. Reds, yellows, blacks, and blues smeared together into one work of art. Blue and pink-orange tassels hung from his left shoulder; a sexy woman in a bikini marked his entire upper back. He snickered and exited his new room.

"You are not wearing that ratty thing!"

Turning, an amused grin spread across his lips. "What do you mean?" he drawled, sidling halfway through the hall. He partially wanted his relatives to notice his rebellious nature. Marko picked out a slight flush to his aunt's face. "I won't be out long. Promise!" His uncle let out a hoot of laughter when he retreated, seeing the back of his jacket.

He left his family behind and smirked at the breezy air. "Woooo!" Marko raced over to his motorcycle, straddling the bike. Digging through his satchel, he picked out fingerless gloves and slipped them on to improve his grip. His parents warned him to never ride without a helmet; there was no fun in that! He started up the engine, revving before coasting down the driveway. The light flickered to life and illuminated the road a few feet in front of him. Marko couldn't believe they allowed him to go.

His fingers tightened on the throttle and felt the wind whipping through his hair. He sped through the neighborhood and hastily merged onto the road. The speed limit dropped too low for his liking, so he took his chances. Few cars rode alongside him which gave him space to speed. Marko focused for any hiding cops with the vague notion to lose any chasers. He always toyed with the idea of a high speed chase.

A red light loomed ahead and brought him to an irritable halt, trailing his boots beside him. Tapping the handlebars mildly, no vehicles were immediately coming. Laughing, he pushed off and pulled through the intersection. The rush of adrenaline urged him to cruise the entire night and forget about returning home.

The Giant Dipper's peak appeared in the distance, encouraging him to speed faster. His motorcycle slipped between two cars as he maneuvered in and out. A loud car horn blared behind him, followed by an insult. He rode quickly and soon forgot about the irritated driver.

A line of vehicles materialized as they all vied to turn into the Boardwalk's parking lot. With a sneaky grin, he cut the line and squeezed through which earned some more car horns. The parking lot packed full of people, and many struggled to find an opening. Marko drove to the motorcycle lot and came to a stop beside some impressive bikes. He cut the engine and whistled upon sliding to his feet. Several of the bikes were beauties.

Adjusting his hair, Marko left his bike behind and trekked towards the entrance. He ducked through an opening in the chain link fence, walking casually out from behind a cotton candy stand. They never seemed to fix the old shortcut, worked every time. Who needed to buy tickets when you have childhood secrets?

His hands shifted to his pockets as he discovered the Boardwalk map. A wooden board spread before him with the attractions etched into its surface. "Ooh, they added some new rides," he mumbled. He backed up to leave but noticed several missing persons posters. Marko grew silent and studied the young faces. A few of them disappeared months ago. Pushing his uneasy feelings away, he planned to have his fun. The innocent gazes of young men and women stared back at him, asking for his help. _Those things are morbid. Why did I even look at them? I'm going to be seeing their faces everywhere now._

Marko tried to avoid the crowd and received several rough nudges. He hated being so much smaller than the tall surfers. Putting on a brave face, he stormed through a crowd that rushed to the band's weekly concert. Nearly half of the patrons must be attending; he wondered how many times he could ride the Giant Dipper before the line exploded. Jogging in urgency, he slowed as he neared a earring booth. A young woman stood beside a chair and worked on piercing a male's ear. Taking a deep breath, he scanned the display of earrings from afar. He felt it was too soon to risk it. Clenching his fists, he forced himself to move onward. Aunt Ruth would bury him in her backyard if she found out.

A saxophone blasted over the Boardwalk along with insane cheers from fans. He could still listen to the band play without being bombarded. Several teenagers filed into the Giant Dipper's line, and he trailed behind them. Marko dodged in front of two guys and snagged the front car, teasing with snickers. He relaxed and spotted a pretty girl surveying the remaining cars. Whistling, Marko smiled and beckoned her to come join him. The girl blushed before joining a male farther in the back. A loud 'ooh' rose for his rejection, but he received the desired reaction. She gave him an embarrassed smile and showed off her thoughts; she dug him.

* * *

"How was your day, Max?"

"Quite nice until you entered my store."

David smirked and leaned against the glass counter. He ran his fingers through his bleach blond mullet, twisting a small braid. "Why do you work here?" he muttered, mocking the older man. His icy gaze returned to his sire, taking in his tall frame and large glasses.

"It's my business. Unlike the delinquents around here, I'm supporting myself, bills to pay," Max replied in a demeaning tone. "I could always drop by."

"Hardly necessary, I bet you wouldn't be able to get inside anyway," he teased, eyeing a young woman as she exited.

Thorn approached David and snarled as if berating him. The white dog showed his teeth and threatened him. "Back off, Thorn. Where are your manners?" The creature withdrew behind the counter with Max and laid down by his feet.

"I actually came here for a reason."

"To stare at Marie? I already warned you she's off limits. I'm not going to replace workers for you. Where are the boys? You're never far apart these days," Max grumbled, surveying David.

"I'm not the one interested in her. We've been wanting a new brother though - all of us. Paul is under control now. He's doing much better on his own. Dwayne and I can handle another. If we do it now, we'll be set for the long run. We'll have another brother to watch our backs. I came here to warn you. You seemed surprised when we showed up with Paul," David explained, flashing a devious smile.

Max leaned forward with interest and studied David closely. He had no doubts in his boys, but creating a newborn put them all at risk. His two oldest didn't push Paul and allowed him to become rash. There were always complications if they did not select the perfect candidate. "I trust you to make a wise decision. You'll have to introduce us once everything is sorted out."

The clinking of buckles and boots announced the appearance of Dwayne and Paul. Dwayne wore a dark jean jacket with chest exposed and chains crossing his torso. His black hair hung down his back, but Paul's blond hair seemed more wild tonight, sticking up from riding. "David, you should have been there," Paul teased, laughing. He drifted to the counter and leaned against it, lowering his head for the perfect view. Why must Marie be off limits?

Dwayne nodded with wonder and glanced between them. "There was almost a fight."

"There's at least seven fights every night," David corrected, seeming unimpressed.

"No, this was different. He was so outnumbered!" Paul chided, standing up straighter. "Tell him, Dwayne!"

"We were out smoking by our bikes-,"

"Smoking is illegal on the Boardwalk," Max interrupted with a bemused expression.

"Your Mom is illegal, Max. Butt out!" Paul covered, motioning for Dwayne to continue the story.

"Anyway, he pissed off the Surf Nazis. He flirted with the leader's girl. We thought he was going to go ballistic when they got near his bike. He totally owned them though. He told them to go mess with our bikes actually, yeah?" Dwayne shot Paul a look for confirmation. Max rolled his eyes and returned to his customers.

"I mean, they backed off at first until he started flirting with the guy's girl again. We wanted a fight, not that the guy stood a chance. He was like a foot smaller than all of them."

"Where is this going?" David muttered with drifting attention.

"He actually did a wheelie and almost ran the guy over!" Paul exclaimed, laughing. "He was petrified. It looked like he pissed himself. You just had to be there." Maybe, the retelling didn't represent very well.

Dwayne beckoned for them to leave the video store. "We were thinking about him becoming one of us. His bike is just as fast if not faster. Paul volunteered to tail him next time he comes to the Boardwalk."

David mulled the idea over and shoved his hands into his overcoat's pockets. "Paul is going to tail him? Mmm, can you handle that?"

"I'm ready for a baby brother."

Nodding, the leader led the boys toward their motorcycles, and he spotted a group of surfers; the tallest male spewed a fake story about how he kicked a teenager's ass. He placed his trust in Paul this time, knowing the time had come. "Let's go for a ride boys. The night is young," David insisted, revving his motorcycle.


	2. Meeting the Boys

_The music died down behind him, and he hated being ushered out. The Boardwalk reached closing time. Anybody within range received the boot. He entered the packed parking lot and wondered how long the process took. Security likely spent half the night rounding people up and forcing them to leave. Marko walked calmly to the left section of the lot, surveying the various groups. Many strangers smoked and concealed bottles of alcohol, speaking in loud voices. He wisely kept to himself for most of the night._

_He slowed when a group of males stood close to his motorcycle. They were having a good time about something. Marko ignored them and figured they were clueless by now. Approaching his bike, he heard an adamant shout and stopped naturally._

_"Hey, short stack!"_

_Marko turned with his fists clenched, recognizing the group in moments. He flirted with one of their girls while riding Giant Dipper. How was he supposed to know? Noticing their numbers, he shifted towards his bike and stood next to it. "Is there a problem?" he replied, sounding irritated. The short insult rubbed him the wrong way._

_"Yeah, you were flirting with my girl, bitch!" The tallest male crossed over, wearing a black vest that exposed his biceps. His hair appeared raven black except for the bleached tips directly in the middle._

_"Bite me, scumbag!" Marko retorted, gripping the silver handlebars._

_Three guys wandered behind their leader, snickering and guffawing like idiots. "Do you even know who we are?" one demanded, adjusting his sunglasses._

_"Fugly pricks."_

_The male turned red in the face and rushed forward. Marko revved his motorcycle and gave him grounds to reconsider. "Why should I know you? You look like wannabes to me," he argued._

_"We're the Surf Nazis! Don't forget it next time!"_

_The warning hardly made sense to Marko. He leaned forward on his motorcycle and watched them retreat. The urge to snatch the last word overpowered him. "Hey, sweetheart! I don't know what you see in them, especially the skunk dickweed you're holding onto!" An amused laugh left him once he saw their stunned expressions. They whirled around instantly and charged with a battle cry._

_"You're going to get it!" The leader yelled, rushing ahead of his gang._

_Gripping the throttle, his motorcycle surged toward the oncoming surfers. He tipped his bike backward and pulled into a wheelie, clipping the skunk-haired poser on the shoulder. Dropping to the ground, Marko circled the guys slowly before halting. A devious smile broke through; he tried to hide it with his hand, giggling at the fool. Their high and mighty leader laid on the ground, shell shocked, and refused to move. "The only thing you're going to be getting is off your ass," Marko promised, tilting his head to the side. "Who's the bitch now?"_

_Smirking, he glared at the remaining Surf Nazis and pulled a few feet away. "Later, dudes!" Marko flipped them the bird without looking back. He felt no remorse for using his motorcycle as a weapon. If he puffed up and acted tough, they hesitated and left him alone; they would have hurt him given the chance._

"Marko, are you even listening? We're going out to dinner, and none of you are to leave the house. Understand?"

Blinking, he returned to reality and stared at the dinner table. How long had he zoned out? "Hm?" he grumbled, stirring his soup.

"C'mon, man. You're going to make Mom have a cow."

"I don't want to see that," Marko replied. His gaze drifted to his cousin on the other side of the table, smiling at him. Alex's transformation confused him; after he grew two feet and bulked up, Marko truly felt like a short stack next to him. His tanned skin displayed how he hung out on the beach, claiming to party with hot babes. He knew Alex worked at Marvin's, a large general store that loaned out surfboards. His shifts consumed his life right now, but he worked to pay off his motorcycle.

"There's plenty of things for you three to do around here. I taped some movies for you," Uncle Rick insisted. "We won't be gone for long."

He glanced to the leftover soup pot and lost his appetite. His dinner turned into cold grodiness. Marko stood slowly and dumped the broth down the sink, listening to Skylar mutter. "Don't worry. We're not going anywhere."

"Don't you guys have a reservation?" Alex added, finishing his meal.

"Are you trying to get rid of us?" Aunt Ruth immediately demanded.

"What? You've been trying to leave for the past half hour."

"We better go. Skylar will keep them in line," Rick urged, taking his wife's hand. He led Ruth to the doorway while the woman issued last minute warnings. It took another five minutes for their car to leave the garage.

"I'm glad that's over," Marko mumbled, entering the living room. He searched through the tapes and titles scrawled across the labels. "Okay, we have Halloween, Friday the 13th, Nightmare on Elm Street, and Fright Night," he listed, sifting through the tapes. "Those are the only horror movies."

"I haven't seen Fright Night in awhile. I've had enough slasher action," Alex explained, jumping onto the couch. He grabbed a wool blanket and draped it across his legs, propping his feet on the coffee table. "Are you coming, Skylar?"

His sister pounded up the stairs and shut her door behind her. "She just doesn't like scary movies," Marko explained, sliding the tape into the player. He took his seat beside Alex and hung his legs over the couch's arm. A smile appeared as the movie began playing; this is one of the best scary movies he's seen in a long time. It came out two years ago and gave horror a new meaning. "Fright Night!" Marko yelled, mimicking the high pitched voice with Alex. He snickered, forgetting how stupid this movie could be. The scene began with a cheesy black and white movie.

"Not you, Alex, you're neck! Has anyone ever told you…it was beautiful?" Marko repeated, leaning close to his cousin.

"No," Alex stated in mock surprise.

"Come, closer." Marko leaned forward like he might bite his cousin.

His cousin smacked him in the face with a pillow, and he collapsed on his back laughing. "Who are you to interrupt my nightly feeding?" He struggled to keep up with the movie quotes. His stomach hurt from laughing so hard.

"I am Peter Vincent, vampire killer!"

"No!" Marko covered his head as Alex chucked pillows at him. He opened his eyes and cautiously pushed the mountain of cushions away. "Oh, man, stop it. My eyes are watering."

Alex trudged over and replaced all of the pillows. "I think we're good. Skylar won't come check on us. Think we were loud enough?"

Nodding, he turned the volume up and beckoned for Alex to follow. He went to his room and grabbed his riding jacket, slipping it over his shoulders. "Let's go, cos." Marko opened the door slowly and held it open for Alex. His cousin left and sneaked towards their motorcycles while he softly closed the front door. If his sister never knew they left, she couldn't call Ruth and Rick. "Be quiet," Marko reminded, putting his fingerless gloves on.

He rested on his bike and reached back to fix his hair. Marko took the strands from both sides and put them into a small ponytail, resting it on his curly hair; he hated putting all of his hair up. The sides often blew into his face while he rode. Watching Alex fashion a red bandana into his hair, Marko only just noticed how long he let it grow. It almost reached his shoulders.

Marko shot a quick look to his sister's window and saw her moving around her room. The curtains were drawn, so she couldn't see them. He raised his arm and mouthed an amused call before smoothing down the driveway. "We're home free now."

* * *

Paul leaned against a game stand and watched the manager restack the bottles. "Knock'em all over," he dared Dwayne, nodding to the baseballs.

Dwayne seized a worn ball and studied his target. As the man stacked the last bottle, the others exploded beneath it. "Do I win?" Dwayne asked, sitting on the counter. The bottles shattered from the force, and he almost pegged the manager in the process. Both boys began chuckling; Paul searched the prizes and selected a blue teddy bear. He nudged Dwayne and dashed off before the man could stop them.

"Give this to your true love," Paul said poetically, pressing the bear to Dwayne's chest.

"I don't need a bear to seduce her, but you on the other hand-"

Paul slapped his companion with the stuffed animal and stormed ahead. He beckoned for Dwayne to hurry up because they were supposed to meet David. Their leader came into view with a young woman at his side. Paul sidled forward and presented the blue teddy bear to the girl. "What's your name?" he asked.

The girl blushed and took the bear, leaning closer to David.

"I didn't catch that."

"You're scaring her, Paul. I told you two to have fun tonight," David ordered, keeping an arm around her.

"We are having fun," Dwayne protested, crossing his arms.

David smiled and took the girl's hand. "I'll see you boys later." Without another word, he lead his date into the crowd and disappeared.

"Do you think he'll ever get serious?" Paul mumbled.

"Never. I don't want a girl cramping our style. It'll be fun at first, but then," Dwayne trailed off, implying something unpleasant.

"Oh, man. You're right." Paul winced and tried to hide his horrified expression. He ran his fingers through his wild hair until he noticed a small male. "Hey! It's him," he pointed out.

"Where?"

"There!"

"Finally! It's been almost a week."

Paul punched Dwayne lightly and walked backwards in Marko's direction. "Catch you later!" He gave a stupid salute before making a beeline to the earring stand. Where has he been? They combed the Boardwalk each night since they witnessed the fight. David doubted they saw a fight at all.

He adjusted his dark overcoat, listening to the gold pendant sash jingle. Paul wore white jeans tucked into his boots; cheap bracelets decorated both of his wrists. "It's a rip off, you know," Paul whispered, startling him. He chuckled and leaned against the vacant stand. A 'be back later' sign decked its surface.

Marko jumped and turned to see a tall guy about his age. "Is it? Damn. Can you do it for me, Twisted Sister?" he asked, noticing Paul's earring.

Chuckling, he pushed Marko into the tall seat and dug through the tools. "That's me. Can you believe I've never gotten that before?" he asked, referring to the nickname.

"What's your real name?"

"Paul, and yours?"

"Marko."

"Well, Marko, I can tell you I've never done this before. It should just sting though," he mused, procuring a needle. "Stay still for me."

Marko told himself to get his ear pierced and endure the suffering later. The urge to have an earring literally ate him away inside. His family would have to deal with it. He gripped one side of the chair to prevent himself from jerking. The needle slipped through his left ear with minimal pain. "Thanks, man."

"No problem! Let's see what we got," Paul muttered, examining the chain jewelry. His fingers moved absently to his own earring, a gold skull connected to a dagger. "You'll probably want some of these. They don't weigh as much."

Sliding out of the chair, he picked up a chain earring connected to a rough, black circle. He leaned toward a mirror and slid the jewelry through his ear. Marko tilted his head and smiled. He should have pierced his ear months ago.

"Are you from around here?" Paul asked, grabbing Marko's arm. He lead him away from the stand in case somebody noticed them steal.

"I'm staying with my aunt and uncle for the summer. I'm actually here with my cousin, but he ditched me for his girl," he explained following Paul. Hopefully, he could make some friends here; Marko adored Paul's style.

"Sucks to suck, I'm just chilling tonight. My friends are here somewhere. Do you want to ride Giant Dipper?"

Marko agreed and followed Paul through the crowd. He hated Alex for leaving him alone tonight, especially after he humiliated the Surf Nazis. His worry kept him at bay and refused to let him return alone. They approached the rollercoaster line and entered quietly. Paul leaned his back against the rail while Marko sat on top of it. "I'm assuming you're from Santa Carla."

"Yeah, I've been here awhile. I plan to stay. You're really not from here though?"

"No way, I'm from farther north. It's two completely different towns. This is a better place for me. I actually fit in, you know?"

Paul smiled and clapped Marko on the shoulder. His gaze fell on the top of the line, and he spotted Dwayne. "Hey!" he shouted loudly. Some people turned, but he got his friend's attention. "C'mon." Paul slipped out of line and jogged to the front, cutting in behind Dwayne.

Ducking underneath the rail, Marko stopped beside Paul. "Hey," he greeted.

"This is Marko," Paul introduced, gesturing to him. "And, this is Dwayne."

Marko dipped his head in another greeting and ignored the angry complaints. The folks weren't amused about them cutting in line. He shot Dwayne a look and realized he was taller and more built than Alex; he must have Native American descent too.

"We saw you the other night. It takes balls to do what you did," Dwayne mused stepping onto the coaster's platform. They would ride when the next coaster cycled through.

"Really? I knew they would have kicked my ass."

"Greg's face was hilarious! He looked so surprised. You should stay away from them. Almost all the surfers in Santa Carla are a part of the Surf Nazis. They've been getting a lot of recruits lately," Paul informed.

"They're wimps. I wouldn't worry. The Boardwalk security is cracking down on them," Dwayne reassured, stepping through the gate. He took the front car for himself but paused. "Any single riders?" he called to the long line. A girl with dark hair broke through the crowd and joined Dwayne in the front seat.

"Atta' boy!" Paul shrieked, pulling the lap bar down. He nudged Marko beside him and whooped when the coaster shot out of the loading dock.

"Are you going anywhere tonight?" the young woman asked Dwayne. Marko could barely hear her voice over the coaster's chugging.

"I already have a prior engagement. Let's enjoy the ride."

Marko grinned as Paul laughed, pushing Dwayne from behind. They reached the top of the dip and dropped smoothly, speeding to the next drop. He raised his hands above his head until the coaster began jerking them around. Paul seemed to have no problem with holding his arms up despite the sharp turns. They lurched to a stop, tightening the lap bar on both of them. He glanced sideways and snickered at Paul's hair. "Cool it, man," he managed to say.

"Right." Paul ran his hands over his wild hair to no avail.

Dwayne exited the ride and smiled as the young woman stood close to him. "I have to go, really!" He placed a strand of hair behind her ear and gave her an affectionate smile. Waving sweetly, he retreated and tailed Paul and Marko to the Boardwalk. "Are we leaving? David should be done by now."

Paul dug his hands into his pockets and debated. "He should be done. We can always leave without him."

"I don't know."

"Then, go find him!" Paul urged, shoving Dwayne away. "Do you want to go for a ride?"

The abrupt question sparked Marko's attention. "You guys, ride?"

"Hell, yeah!"

Following Paul, Marko jogged behind him until they reached the parking lot. Paul motioned for him to go find his bike and meet him at the entrance. He slid onto his motorcycle moments later and lowered his head, smiling. Marko felt the adrenaline rushing from going on a midnight ride. Starting the engine, he pulled out and drove to the boardwalk's entrance, stopping beside Paul.

Paul head banged and laughed. "Wooo! You'll be able to keep up," he shouted, studying Marko's motorcycle.

"A need for speed, yeah?" He leaned over and fist bumped with his new friend.

While they waited, they leaned their heads together and began pointing out beautiful girls. Paul revved his bike when they refused to look his way. Forgetting they were in the parking lot, Marko played along and nodded to a group of girls. "What do you think about them?"

Paul cringed and squinted his eyes, shrugging. "We might need a closer look."

A loud rev came from behind them, and a black bike pulled up. The male wore a dark coat and carried a powerful presence with him. He had bleached hair and an icy complexion. There was no question about who's the leader - David. Leaning on the handlebars, his gloved hands hung carelessly as he studied him. "Marko," he began, relishing in saying his name. "We're riding to Hudson's Bluff tonight. Know where that is?"

"Nope, but I can keep up," he retorted, giving David a sideways rocker sign.

"Prove it," David answered, revving his bike. He pulled ahead and led them down the Boardwalk. Dwayne took the chance and sped in front of them; Paul grinned and pursued his friends.

Were they crazy? Were they supposed to ride there? Marko followed them and easily caught up, rumbling across the concrete. They bordered the beach where bon fires surged to the sky. Groups of people danced around the flames and took a break from the Boardwalk's rides. The calliope music tinkled before being drowned out by their bikes. He slowed as soon as the boys zipped down a set of stairs and onto the beach. They weren't bothering to stop, so he raced after them, trying to gather air instead of thumping down the steps. Holding his throttle down, he pulled forward and rode beside Paul. Sand sprayed behind them in wispy paths.

Marko edged in front of Paul's bike, speeding up and slowing down in a teasing manner. The only obstacles were leftover umbrellas and the occasional beachgoer. They were free to ride around and go as fast as they wished. The beach stretched on endlessly; the wind ripped through his hair and kept it behind him. He smelled the seawater and barely heard the waves over their motors. Paul finally pulled ahead and left him next to Dwayne whom was laughing heartily. "You've seen nothing yet!" Dwayne roared, speeding ahead of him.

David lead them beneath a smaller boardwalk, dipping through a small puddle of Pacific. Marko splashed through and surveyed the rickety beams above them; they were on the other side moments later. Trees blustered ahead as they turned away from the beach and onto a dirt path. They were forced to slow down, but Marko was surprised at how confidently they ripped through the turns. He struggled to steer clear of trees and frequently dragged one of his boots to help turn his bike. The path narrowed and forced him to ride behind Dwayne. A heavy fog rolled in and blotted out the foliage, leaving him with a sense of foreboding. His thoughts drifted until he could only hear the motor of his bike. Dwayne's back lights guided him on the path, and he tried timing his turns perfectly. Marko could scarcely see the handlebars he squeezed in a death grip.

His skin prickled upon hearing eerie laughing. Dwayne was beginning to pull ahead! Marko pulled the throttle harder and charged after them. The fog thickened until even his bike's light proved useless. Slowing his pace, he knew he heard chuckles and jeers. Marko promised to keep up! Risking his safety, he pushed onward and tried to ride based on the path's levelness. He skidded over leaves and branches occasionally. A snicker echoed beside him, and his heart jolted to see Paul. Paul gave a friendly smile and mouthed 'slow down'. Marko braked and came to a rough halt beside Paul. Cringing, the sudden stop jarred him as he refused to fall off.

The fog cleared on its own time and revealed a massive cliff. David parked near the point with Dwayne near the edge. His eyes widened while his chest ached from his hammering heart. What if he hadn't stopped? Exhaling awkwardly, he leaned forward while his hearing returned to him. Large waves beat against the rock, crashing far below them. "Good job," Paul whispered in his ear. He rubbed his back before strutting over to Dwayne. David stood near the cliffside, staring at the large lighthouse. Marko shakily shifted to his feet and followed Paul.

"Breathe, Marko! That was helluva ride!" Dwayne howled.

"I'll say." David turned and was illuminated momentarily by the faraway light house beam. The beam rotated around and gradually left them in darkness. "How far are you willing to go, Marko?"

"I kept up!" Marko replied, sounding pleased with himself. He wondered where the other three learned to ride. He felt a hand on his shoulder; Paul took his hand and led him to a set of stairs. Dwayne beat them down the first flight. Marko allowed David to pass ahead of him and kept beside Paul. "Where does this go?"

"Oh, you'll see," Paul promised ecstatically.

The wooden stairs led down the cliff and straight to the rocky shallows. Waves burst through the rocks and sent spray into the air. They were sprinkled with seawater upon approaching a rusted, chain link fence. The middle section was ripped open, revealing a great, dark opening. He saw a yellow sign at the mouth of the cave but not the words. David ducked down and disappeared. "Is this safe?" Marko demanded.

"If you know where to step." Paul grasped his hand and led him into the craggy entrance. Marko pressed his hand to the rocky surface, using the side for extra support. The rocks near the entrance were extremely slick, and the cave dipped downward. He scaled uneasily and felt glad for Paul's assistance. His boots' traction could slide at any moment. The cave became easier with dry rocks beneath them, so he released Paul's hand. His breath caught when the cave opened up, revealing a hotel lair. "Holy shit," he muttered in awe. He stood at the top of the incline, looking over his surroundings.

Dwayne stood below with a torch, dipping it into scattered trashcans. The material in the cans lit up and revealed the hidden sanctuary. A stone fountain rested in the middle with rubble strewn where water should be. Moss and fixtures hung from the craggy ceiling; trinkets like starfish and shells acted as wind chimes and dangled from the ceiling. Fabric hung from various points and concealed sections of the cave. A large king bed rested in the far back with colored sheets draped over it.

Paul stood on the fountain and beckoned for him to come down. Marko remembered his legs and jumped off the remaining rocks. He saw mosaic tiles near the opening and struggled for words. "What is this place?" he asked.

"Not bad, huh?" David replied, walking past Paul. "This was the hottest resort in Santa Carla about 85 years ago. Too bad they built it on the fault. In 1906 when the big one hit San Francisco, the ground opened up, and this place took a header-," David slapped his hands together, circling the fountain and stopping next to him. "-right into the crack. So now, it's ours. You'll like it here, Marko."

Smelling smoke, he watched Paul light a bud as he walked on the fountain's rim. He leapt in front of David and handed him the cigarette. "Sit," Paul urged, pushing him down. Marko smiled and took a seat on the rim, noticing the array of candles. This cave would be pitch black without the light.

His fingers rubbed a dangling starfish whilst Paul and Dwayne lit various wicks. He watched David recline in a beach chair, relaxing while the cave gained more light. Marko realized the fabrics' purpose; the light cast glows and turned the cave a reddish pink hue. Dwayne pocketed his lighter and waved to Marko. He would have never imagined such beauty. Gratefulness swelled within him, realizing the boys were trusting him with a powerful secret. Paul flicked out a match and came when David beckoned him. Whispering to each other, Paul grinned wildly and walked away.

Marko sat up straighter and stared at a ruby and gold encrusted wine bottle. Red liquid sloshed within the corked container and drew his interest. None of them could be old enough to drink. Paul slid the bottle into David's hand and sat down on a nearby crate. David uncorked the wine with a faint pop, lifting it to his lips. His eyes shut tight as his own blood filled his mouth and slid down his throat. He winced at the kick but glanced to Marko across from him. "Try some of this, Marko. Be one of us."

Tilting his head, he debated on whether to drink. A small sip couldn't hurt, and it would help his nerves after riding. Silently, he stood and took the bottle in his hands. It felt surprisingly cool to the touch. Marko sniffed the liquid and sloshed it curiously, conflicting with himself. He never drank before.

"Marko, Marko, Marko, Marko!"

His eyes shifted to Dwayne and Paul, chanting his name and egging him on. Their hands raised up and down; the chant grew louder by the second. "Marko," David whispered, locking his icy gaze on him. He tilted the bottle to his lips and allowed a sip to pass into his mouth. Its sweet taste surprised him, and one sip turned into a few. "Marko!" David shouted, clapping his hands. Whooping, Paul and Dwayne stood with their arms raised high. They began chanting his name all over again, and the attention drew him to take another sip. Was this what wine tasted like?

Paul strode over and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're one of us, bud." Removing his jacket, he swung it like a lasso and paraded around the cave. Dwayne followed suit and whooped next to David, still chanting his name.

Marko tipped the bottle to his lips once more. He swore he heard David's voice echoing in his head. _"Marko, Marko, Marko, Marko."_


	3. Initiation

Paul paraded on his third lap around the fountain and jerked Marko to his feet, swinging him around "Get off your ass and party with us!" he exclaimed and whooped loudly. Marko held onto Paul's arms while they turned, and they nearly slammed into Dwayne. They both stumbled to the side and burst into laughter. Marko rested on the ground and glanced sideways to Paul. His gut hurt from laughing so hard, and tears were in his eyes. He reached up and wiped them on his gloves.

A loud beat emanated from Dwayne's direction, followed by a familiar tune. Danger Zone by Kenny Loggins began playing with its contagious lyrics. "I love this song!" Marko cried and stood slowly. He began to feel warm and tossed his riding jacket to the side. He smiled when David rose from his beach chair and moved to join their celebration. Marko brushed sand from his pants and turned to see Paul dancing and pelvic thrusting. Paul swept two fingers across his eyes with the left and then the right. He broke into the disco and grabbed his belt, pointing to the cavernous ceiling.

Dwayne stepped forward to challenge Paul with an amused smirk. Marko glanced to the ground and stifled a snort as Dwayne reverted to pelvic thrusting too. Grabbing his belt, Dwayne leaned sideways and fist pumped the air. After a moment, he switched sides and pointed at all three of them. He paused and raised a rocker sign into the air and head banged for a few beats.

Marko reached forward to muffle his laughs when their eyes fell on him. He chuckled softly and winced for a moment, hoping he didn't embarrass himself. His gaze lowered to the ground, and he covered his eyes with his left hand. Rolling his fist, he began stepping sideways and crossing his legs. Marko could attempt dancing Michael Jackson, but he knew he looked silly trying. He heard the boys laughing at him and smiled all the same. His blue eyes drifted to David curiously as the song changed.

"C'mon boys," David purred and glanced behind him. He slid his hands into his overcoat pockets and began moon walking effortlessly. "No fair!" Marko and Paul shouted. David turned with a smirk and shuffled back to them, chuckling at their expressions.

Marko leaped onto the fountain rim alongside Paul and began swaying, dancing around the lit candles. He allowed the music to envelop him as he partied with his friends. The fires in the trashcans blazed brightly and reflected pink and reddish light off the fabrics. Their shadows cast dark figures on the walls, and they stretched endlessly to the ceiling. The ocean waves crashed outside and slammed against the rock, but their music and yells blocked out the sound. The music track neared its end, and the silver rock box sputtered to a stop. Marko's arms were locked around Paul's neck as they raced around the cavern. Paul laughed and collapsed on a couch, reclining next to Marko. Marko smiled and felt giddy from happiness. Dwayne relaxed on a large crate while David pulled his beach chair over.

They went silent as David leaned forward and studied all of them. A carefree smile was on his face. "So, Paul tells me you're not from here," David stated curiously.

Marko nodded his head and felt Paul's hand on his shoulder. "I'm from up north. I was born in a small town, nothing like Santa Carla."

Dwayne brushed his dark hair away from his eyes and nodded. "You fit in here. You would never guess."

"Yeah, I hated it back home. My parents never gave me any freedom. I had to sneak around and practice riding with some college guys. My parents just bought me my bike. But yeah, there was a police enforced curfew because I lived in _that_ kind of town, you know? We wouldn't be allowed in a place like this." He leaned back and gestured to their surroundings, resting his arms on the back of the couch. This cave lair was naturally beautiful, and the boys put a lot of effort into making it their own. "How did you find this place?"

David glanced to Paul and Dwayne and chuckled. "Let's just say I know a guy." His icy gaze trailed all three of them before nodding to Dwayne. Dwayne understood and retrieved the jewel bottle from the fountain rim. A few sips were missing from where Marko drank earlier. Dwayne passed the bottle to David and heard the cork pop out. "A toast, welcome to Santa Carla." He lifted the blood to his lips and swallowed one sip with ease. He shook the bottle for good measure and passed it to Dwayne.

Dwayne grinned to himself and raised the bottle excitedly. "To Marko." He tipped the blood to his lips and gulped several sips heartily. His brown eyes fell on Paul and passed the drink wordlessly to him.

Paul's eyes brightened, and he leaned to sniff the top. "To you, bud." He rose the blood high and surveyed his new brother. Marko was one of them now. Every night would be like tonight. They'd party, ride through the forest, and cause trouble on the Boardwalk. Nothing would come between them. Paul laughed and smiled happily before drinking several gulps. He licked his lips and pressed the bottle into Marko's hands.

Marko took the ruby crusted bottle once more and rubbed its rough surface. He smiled and dipped his head, trying to hide his grateful smile. It meant so much to be accepted by them. He'd drink the entire bottle if it meant becoming close friends. Marko raised the bottle above his head and drank two sips of the sweet liquid. The wine quenched his dry throat and refreshed him. He lowered the bottle and stood hesitantly; he brushed his thumb across the bottle's surface one last time. Paul, Dwayne, David - they were true friends, and he just met them tonight. Marko returned the bottle to David and watched him promptly cork it. Half of the wine remained for another night.

A tumultuous wave slammed against the wall and echoed throughout the cave. David stood and returned the bottle to a shelf filled with other trinkets. He turned back to the boys and nodded over his shoulder. Dwayne laughed deeply and jumped up to follow. Paul slapped Marko on the shoulder and beckoned him.

"One sec!" he called. Marko picked his way to the king bed and pushed some drapes aside. He must have thrown his riding jacket way over here. Pulling the patchwork fabric around himself, he spotted the tidy white sheets. The pillows were positioned neatly on top of the smoothed blankets. The bed was untouched unlike the rest of the cave.

A whistle sounded from the opening where Paul stood on the first rock. The boy waved his arms over his head, sending his golden sash tinkling. "We'll leave without you! They're already outside!" he warned. He snickered and clambered up the rocks, disappearing from view.

"I'm coming!" Marko jogged around the fountain and ducked away from a drooping fabric. He stared up at the dark hole and heard Paul's boots scrambling against rock. It took him a moment to find the quickest path up. His fingers dug into the natural handholds, wondering where they were going. Marko paused at the top of the opening and smiled at the massive lair. He felt disappointed that they were leaving. "Paul? You still there?" he asked, climbing over the slicker rocks. Marko emerged into the night and saw Paul leaning against the torn away fencing.

"It took ya long enough," he teased. Paul turned and dashed toward the wooden stairs.

Marko tailed him and felt the adrenaline surging through his body. Their bikes stood where they left them. David and Dwayne were already waiting, revving in anticipation. He crossed to his bike and straddled the seat. His fingers slid over the sleek handlebars and found his grip. The wind gusted over the point and blew their hair. Paul's hair blew straight into his face since he refused to tie it back. The moon hung in the sky and sent white reflections across the ocean. The clouds rolled lazily through the night and were nearly transparent. The stars were all visible, and Marko recognized a few constellations. He dipped his head when the lighthouse beam spun around and illuminated the point momentarily. David revving his bike brought him to attention.

"We'll come here again - promise," David insisted before pulling away. He turned along the cliff side and rode toward another fog belt. Dwayne pursued him along with Paul.

Taking a deep breath, he lifted his boot and coasted down the ridge after them. The fog wasn't as thick as before, and the boys were riding slower. The terrain was more uneven with rocks jutting outward and their path ending in a steep fall. They rode single file with David at the head. He heard Dwayne laughing his deep and throaty laugh as they turned toward the woods. It must be a shortcut. Marko kept Paul's taillights in sight and felt the path dip downward. He kept low to his bike when a lone branch nearly clocked him. "Alright, Marko?" Paul called back, laughing hysterically.

He snickered to himself and knew it would have been funny if he landed on his ass. The boys must know all of the trails in the area. The roots were larger and straggled into the dirt pathway. His bike rumbled over them and threatened to throw him off. Marko gripped the handles tightly and focused on Paul's taillights. He couldn't let the other boys distract him, or he might hurt himself. The thick, salty air disappeared after submerging into the forest. The darkness felt more dense than the earlier fog belt. His heart beat rapidly in his chest, exhilarated in the mystery of this ride. None of them mentioned their destination.

The trees thinned out as they turned back toward the coast. They slowed considerably toward a rocky slope, but the boys still shot recklessly to the top. Marko mimicked their confidence and saw the edge looming a few feet away. He turned after Paul and smiled in surprise. The Boardwalk stretched into the ocean and lit up the night. The colorful lights changed every few moments, casting bright electric blues, crimson, gold, and neon green and pink. The ferris wheel balanced precariously at the end and stood higher than the Giant Dipper. Marko watched a rollercoaster shoot down the dip and round the corner. The pale beach stretched on forever, pocketed with glowing fires. They could see the entire town from up here!

Another rev distracted him from the beautiful view. He trailed slowly down a slight slope and saw a wooden fence protecting the edge. A fog belt clustered lower on the cliff from the spray, and some of the water shot close to the edge. The Pacific left a sharp salty scent in the air. He laughed and leaned back on his motorcycle, glancing to the other boys. "This amazing," Marko breathed. He slipped off his bike and walked cautiously to the fence. The beachgoers were tiny figures dancing around the flames. There must have been music, but the pounding waves wailed around them.

"This used to be called Lookout Point," David explained, slipping off his dark motorcycle. He joined Marko by the fence and took in the view. It was nothing new to him, but Marko's excitement made him smile.

Dwayne shot Paul a knowing stare and grinned. He moved his bike out of the way and skirted to the side. The fence had been dismantled on one section, and the beams rested in the way. He scooped one up and tossed it into overgrown weeds.

"What do you mean used to?" Marko asked, crossing his arms. The loud thunk surprised him. "Hey, what are you doing?"

Brushing his jacket off, Dwayne grabbed another beam and laid it with the other. "Why don't you tell him, Paul?"

"Nah, nah! I can't tell the story well!"

David smirked and leaned carelessly against the wooden barricade. "It's named Dead Man's Narrows now. It's a local story. Nobody knows how long it dates back, but the police shut the lookout out down years ago. The road is blocked off, and they built this fence. It's not much," David explained, pushing his back lightly against the wood. David's weight made the wood splinter, but it held momentarily. "It starts with a guy named Bernie Caldwell boasting about his new ride. He told everyone in town to come to Lookout Point because he was jumping to the other side. Right over there. You can barely see it, but there's another cliff slightly lower than this one. The fog usually blocks it." David stepped away from the fence and crossed his arms. "So, this guy rides up here with all of his friends. They're drinking and having the time of their lives. Then, they all start chanting his name. He revs his bike and drives straight toward the edge - the coward. He pulls up at the last second, but the bike's momentum is too much. He shoots over the edge and nosedives straight into the rocks!" David shouts, slamming his hands together. Dwayne drops a wooden beam loudly to punctuate the moment.

Marko's eyes widened as David told him the grisly story. Did that really happen? He'd believe it. It must be one of the skeleton's in Santa Carla's closet. "T-That's awful," Marko stammered, gazing to the fog. Was there really another cliff? If the fog was always there, how could anyone tell? "What happened?"

"The ocean pulled him away, most of him anyway. There's nothing they could do. It's too steep to climb down. The fall could have killed him, or he could have drowned. Who can say? He washed up on the beach one morning. He wasn't the first nor the last to attempt the jump. He also wasn't the last broken and drowned body to wash up on the beach. The story goes that all of these men were cowards. They all changed their minds at the last minute and tried to swerve. It's said that no man can jump Dead Man's Narrows." He laughed darkly and studied Marko. "Here's the kicker, we've all made it to the other side."

Paul appeared to Marko's right and shook his shoulder. "Guess they weren't man enough!" he teased. He stepped close to the fence and stared out over the town. When would they be able to ride together like true brothers? The transition might take several days or longer if Marko fought the transition. Once he became a half-vampire, the bloodlust would be on their side. None of them could resist for long. "I wonder what Max is doing right now," Paul mumbled. The head vampire was probably in his cheesy video store and wasting his life away.

"Screw, Max!" Dwayne called from his bike. With a smirk, he rode forward and shot through the cleared fence opening. Dwayne sailed off the edge and into the thick fog belt.

"Holy shit!" Marko shouted and stepped forward. He stared at the gap and expected Dwayne to return unharmed. The words fumbled in his throat and refused to come out. David just told him that story, and Dwayne actually attempted the jump. His chest hurt from where his heart skipped several beats. Marko gaped at the fog until a beam of light flashed through, followed by a wild whoop. "Oh man," Marko moaned softly. The boys could be reckless, but that stunt really scared him.

"Relaaax, Marko." Paul crossed to his motorcycle and rode it back a few feet. His bike was dark with crimson patterns surrounding the wheels. His friend rested his elbows heavily on the handlebars. "You just have to ride at full speed. There's nothing to it!" Paul surged forward like Dwayne and disappeared on the other side.

David nudged Marko forward with a curious stare. "Go on. I promise you, we've all made it," he insisted. The leader sunk back onto his motorcycle as a gust of wind went by, blustering their hair and coats.

Marko trudged back to his motorcycle and heard Paul and Dwayne chanting his name on the opposing cliff. They both flashed their lights and turned away to give him room. He brushed his curly hair behind him and exchanged a short stare with David.

"You're one of us, Marko," David said softly. He pulled his fingers back and revved his motor, watching Marko expectantly. The other boys were calling for him and flashing their lights.

Gripping the handlebars, Marko positioned himself on a even pathway. The other cliff rested lower, and it hopefully had flat surface. Dwayne and Paul landed without a hitch. He needed to ride at full speed. If he tried to swerve, he'd fly straight into the narrows. Marko listened to their chant for encouragement and drove forward. The edge grew closer, and the fog belt threatened to swallow him. Marko hunched over his bike and stared straight ahead, keeping his course. When he felt the salty wind in his hair, he finally looked down. The fog swirled just beneath him with ocean spray crawling up the rocks. Marko waited for his motorcycle to collide with ground, yet he felt suspended in the air - neither falling nor moving forward. The cliff should be right in front of him!

"Marko! C'mon!" Dwayne jeered.

"We're right here!" Paul teased, laughing airily.

"You're one of us, Marko," David drawled.

When did David reach the other side?! Their voices came from all sides and called for him. He swiveled his head and tried to find them. Paul was in front of him, and Dwayne sounded slightly to his left. David's voice echoed all around him. Was it in his head? The fog grew closer and blotted out everything. Marko couldn't see his motorcycle or his riding jacket. The wind tore at his hair and clothes. Their voices cascaded over his engine and turned him around.

"You promised to keep up! Marko! Marko! Marko!"

"We're waiting for ya, bud!"

"Markooo!"

A massive light burst through the fog and blinded him. Marko screamed in alarm and felt himself tip forward. He tumbled off his bike and skidded into the rough dirt. Rolling over and over, he swore the world turned on its head. When he opened his eyes, Marko saw wallpaper and framed pictures of the seaside. Breathing heavily, he pushed himself up and winced with exhaustion. He was in his room. Someone turned the lights on and left the door wide open. When the hell did he get home? "For shit's sake," he grumbled, catching his breath. Marko wiped the back of his hand across his forehead and felt sweat. His eyes felt heavy, and his body ached like he actually crashed his motorcycle.

"Marko, dinner is ready! Get up! You've been sleeping all day!" Aunt Ruth shouted from the kitchen.

Marko slumped back onto his pillows and groaned, wiping the sleep from his eyes. That wasn't possible. He spied the clock in the hallway, a gaudy cat with its plastic tail swishing beneath it. It was well into the evening, and the sun might have dipped into seawater. Huffing to himself, he threw off his blankets and detangled his legs from the sheets. He stumbled out of bed and squinted curiously at his clothes. Marko must have collapsed on his bed because he still wore his boots and gloves. His jacket hung loosely on his shoulders from tossing in his sleep. He peeled his gloves off and struggled with his boots. It took him a moment to see the dirt and sand smeared across his jeans. What had he been doing last night?

Shaking his head, he dropped his jacket on the comforter and leaned down to smell his tank top. He wouldn't have to change before dinner. Marko shuffled to a nearby mirror and glowered at his unruly bed head. His curly hair haloed his face and tied itself into knots. "Oww," he moaned, coaxing the dark hair tie out of a tangle. Pulling most of his hair behind him, he tried to control it and tie it back. It hung out of his face but still resembled a golden rat's nest.

"Marko!"

"I'm coming!" he called back. As he turned to leave, he saw the chain earring glint in the glass. His eyes widened momentarily and rubbed its rough surface fondly. Last night, Paul, Dwayne, and David…the cave, that all happened! He began to laugh in spite of himself and groaned instantly, massaging his throat. It wasn't the first time he woke up with a sore throat after riding all night. Either he screamed until he lost his voice, or he left his mouth wide open for the wind's mercy. He might have to gargle with saltwater tonight.

Traipsing out of his room, he stared at the floor and avoided the blinding kitchen lights. "What's for dinner?" he asked, clearing his throat. Marko saw Skylar setting the porch table while Alex reclined lazily on the couch, the remote clutched close. He leaned against the counter and hung his head when nobody answered.

"Look who's finally up!" Uncle Rick teased and entered from the porch. The older man went straight to the fridge and grabbed a beer. "I sure hope it was worth it."

Marko ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head. "Huh?" he grumbled, noticing his sister's glare. Leaning forward, he rubbed his temples and hoped his headache disappeared after dinner. "Can I take something?" He tilted his head to the side and saw his uncle's hard stare.

"Go ahead. The medicine is in there." The man pointed to a cabinet and retreated outside.

He rooted through the pill bottles and heard his aunt appear huffily. Marko already pictured her disappointed expression. He wished Alex would help him, but his cousin sounded unnaturally quiet from the living room. Popping the pills into his mouth, Marko meekly drank from a water bottle. "I'm sorry," he muttered without looking up.

"How's the hangover? That should be punishment enough," his aunt scolded, snatching the TV remote from her son. She turned it off and set the remote on a desk. "Outside," she demanded, swatting Alex off the couch.

Marko obediently dipped his head and stepped through the sliding door. He found a spot at the table and stared hungrily at the chicken, salad, and homemade bread. Locking his gaze with the food, he waited for his uncle to fill his plate. "I didn't mean to be out all night. We were going to come straight home," he protested, trying to redeem his ass.

"How come Alex came home right after us?" Aunt Ruth countered, seating herself.

His mouth opened with disappointment, shooting his cousin a glare. Alex was hunched over the table and filling his plate, trying to stay out of the conversation. Marko clenched his fists in his lap and kicked Alex lightly on the shin. How could his cousin ditch him and come home on time? Shaking his head in disbelief, this was not happening right now. They were supposed to leave for a little while and be back before they were missed.

"Did you get your ear pierced?" Skylar asked abruptly, narrowing her hazel eyes.

* * *

Marvin's Surf Shack was nestled just off the main road. It sat against a rocky cliff where the beach ended and reappeared on the other side. Several cabanas surrounded its entranceway with tables and beach chairs set up. A small, palm covered bar sat outside and was open during the nights, serving drinks to any paying customer. Dried palm leaves covered everything except the creaky wooden floor. The merchandise rested on racks on the front deck and was extremely overpriced. The surfboard displays were protected by an ugly wooden surfer statue whose paint was chipping away. The shutters were open for the ocean breeze; the air conditioner in the store broke down years ago.

Marko stood on the front deck and leaned against the wooden rail. He watched the waves crash against the shore and recede back into the Pacific. Surfers swam way out into the water and searched for the perfect rides. Girls spread their towels and laid on the golden beach. The sun hung high in the sky and sent heat waves roiling over the sand. He shielded his eyes with his hand and squinted into the distance. The beach stretched toward the horizon and followed the road. The Boardwalk extended over the shore miles away with the rides spinning and cranking to life.

He wiped sweat from his forehead and stayed within the shade. Alex never warned him about the broken air conditioner, or he would have never worn jeans and boots. His white shirt cut off just above his navel and gave him some fresh air. Marko spread his arms wide when a gust of wind whisked through. "C'mon!" he yelled toward the sky. Why was it so hot? The electronic fans were completely useless and just blew the warm air around. Marko sighed and rested his hands on the rail again. A few silly bracelets decorated his left wrist, and his earring was clearly visible. He pulled his hair into a ponytail after arriving to keep it off his neck.

"Are you done yet?" Alex quipped through an open window.

"It's hot, really, really hot."

"It's summer in Santa Carla. You should know better. I told you to put on sunscreen. You're probably frying out there."

"It's hot."

"Fried your brain more like it."

Marching inside, Marko stopped in front of the fan with a sullen expression. It blew red strings to prove it worked, but he still felt warm. "Why did you bring me here?"

"I thought you'd want to get out of the house. You'd just be moping around otherwise. You saw my mom last night. She was _pissed off_. You scared her pretty bad. She almost called the police and everything. She got on my case for not staying with you," Alex explained.

"You're the one that wandered off! I tried to follow, but you pulled the I'm with a girl card. So, I went off and hung out with some other guys. It's not my fault," Marko grumbled. He glanced accusingly at Alex and his ugly Hawaiian button-up. Alex wore a yellow tank top underneath to match the orange and yellow flower print. Marko chuckled after seeing Alex's nametag and shook his head. The Marvin's uniforms were horrifying.

"Quit laughing at me. I have more money than you do," Alex retorted. He cleared the counter and crossed his arms, studying him. "What were you doing anyway? You were out all night."

"We went riding on the beach, and they knew some forest trails. They took me to Lookout Point."

"Lookout Point? Like, Dead Man's Narrows? What were you doing there?"

"We went to see the view. It was pretty radical up there. The Boardwalk was lit up, and all of the stars were out. It was safe," Marko explained, worried. Alex was giving him a strange look. He decided not to mention the infamous jump to the other cliff.

"I don't know, Marko. That place is screwed up. The police roped the area off and prohibited anyone from going there. You wouldn't believe how many people drowned."

"We were careful. We stayed behind the fence and away from the edge. I didn't know it was prohibited. They never mentioned it," Marko lied. Going to Lookout Point hadn't seemed so serious, but he mentally scolded himself about jumping the ledge. Was he insane? He rubbed his arms uncomfortably and shrugged his shoulders.

"What were you drinking anyway? You looked pretty hungover yesterday." Alex turned and grabbed an icy water bottle from a cooler. "Sit over here and drink all of that. They're free for me since the AC is busted."

Marko took the water and placed the plastic against his cheek. "Uh, we drank some wine. None of us were drunk. It was just a few sips."

"Wine?"

"Yep. I pegged them for beer drinkers, but wine is amazing stuff." He smiled before tipping the water to his lips. Marko chugged halfway and wiped his upper lip. "Alex, why is Santa Carla called the Murder Capital of the World? Me and Skylar were wondering about that. We saw it in graffiti though, so I'm not sure."

His cousin went silent and wore a grave expression. "A lot of people go missing around here. You see the flyers everywhere. There's a few on the notice board just outside. It's usually people our age. My parents told me not to talk about it."

"Missing how?"

"Nobody knows. They just disappear. They're here one day and gone the next. I don't think they're being kidnapped. Santa Carla has a reputation with runaways and small town gangs. Though, the police keep them under control. It's just weird stuff, you know? The bodies appeared around Dead Man's Narrows when I was younger. They sometimes find people on the beach. Wild animal attacks, drunken parties gone wrong, nobody really knows. The county probably doesn't want to scare anyone off."

Marko nodded his head and inched around Alex, reclining in an office chair. "Are the gangs dangerous here?"

"Not really. They vandalize sometimes and steal things, but they're teenagers. All teenagers do that. It's just how Santa Carla is Santa Carla. There's no way of explaining it. I try not to ask too many questions. And Marko, all of those flyers build up overtime. That could be generations worth of missing people. I'm sure it's nothing. My mom buys into all of it, and you saw her last night."

"That's what I like about coming here. My kind of people live here, and we can have fun. We only get to be teens for so long. I don't want my parents to come. They'll just take it all away. Last I heard, they finished selling our place, and they're touring the coast for a new house. I think they're just vacationing together before having to move here. With Santa Carla's reputation, I'm sure houses are cheap."

"Well, my folks ain't so bad. Just give it a few days. They'll lighten up. We'll be back on the boardwalk in a week. I bet you. They can't keep us home forever. They'll be begging for us to get out."

"I still can't believe she took my bike. She can't do that!"

"The hell she can't, not when you live at my house. Like I said, it won't be forever," Alex promised, thrusting the water bottle at Marko. "Dude, please drink all of this. You look like my dad without his beer on game day."

Taking the water bottle, Marko pointed the fan at him and leaned back in the chair. "How long is your shift?"

"Late afternoon."

"Damn, Alex!"

"I'm sorry! If I knew you were going to be a wuss about it."

Marko frowned when a group of boys entered the store. Two of them weren't wearing shirts, and he heard the scuff of sandals against the creaky wood. The boys walked past them and went straight to the surfboard selection in the back. Marko was drinking the cool water when he recognized two of the boys. He leaned forward and narrowed his gaze. It _was_ them. The Surf Nazis crew entered Marvin's and were renting new boards for the day. Greg had been at the head with several of his raunchy friends following. Marko brushed a strand of curly hair away and rose both of his middle fingers, mouthing screw you. Those boys were too busy examining the surfboards to notice.

"What are you doing?" Alex insisted, ripping his hands down. "They're customers, and they might kick your ass." He gave Marko a long stare and retreated to help the Surf Nazis with their selections.

"I'll kick their asses," Marko grumbled, bringing the water to his lips. His throat still felt parched after drinking almost all of the water. Only a quarter remained at the bottom. He propped his boots on the checkout counter and leaned back in the chair. Marko closed his eyes and tried to ignore the ungodly heat. He listened to the fan whirr uselessly and bluster him with hot air. The boys were making stupid jokes in the back of the store. Alex must have found them better company, and he couldn't blame his cousin. He felt so exhausted this morning. Marko passed out on the couch after dinner and pouting about his punishments last night. Someone must have carried him to his bed.

Marvin's played the same track of awful, tropical music, and he began to memorize the words to the stupid songs. Two of the songs were louder than the others and made his head ache. He rested miserably in the chair until they passed and ignited more festive tunes. Marko pretended to be asleep when Alex checked out the boys. They were too excited for the day's waves to notice him.

"I don't like them," Marko said softly. He rested a magazine over his eyes to block the sun. His cousin might not even be near him. Marko heard approaching footsteps but received no response. He must have dozed off at one point because he woke up to the sun burning his arm. The light shifted through the window over the past half hour and found exposed skin.

Rising with discontent, he swayed dizzily from the change in light. His fingers dug into the counter for support. "Alex?" he asked. Marko wandered outside and stood on the deck. The wind blew heftily and flung sand everywhere. The sunlight cooked the beach, and he saw the heat waves dancing wildly. He neared the stairs and cringed, grabbing at his throat. His knees buckled beneath him from the searing pain. Marko hunched in the sand and felt his breath coming in strangled gasps. He closed his eyes tightly and clutched his neck, feeling lightheaded. His entire body felt weightless aside from the growing pain. The sunlight smeared all of the beach colors into a massive blur. The ocean reflected the blinding light and burned his eyes. His fingers dug desperately into the sand, trying to find a release. Hunching lower, Marko felt his head brush the sand as he grabbed his shirt. It felt like his chest was constricting his lungs.

Alex dropped to his side and shook his shoulder with a concerned expression. Marko was startled and breathed in sharply. He coughed awkwardly until air flowed back into his lungs. His eyes watered from not being able to breathe for those few seconds. "I-I'm fine," Marko reassured. He lifted his head and felt the beach tip sideways. The umbrellas were folding into the ocean, and the beach towels floated into the wind. The sand felt like it was shaking beneath his hands. The heat waves renewed their frenzied dancing and made his skin prickle uncomfortably. "Oh man…"

"You're not fine. I'm taking you home. I'm going to take you under the balcony. I need to call a friend in, but that won't take long," his cousin promised. He wrapped his arm around his waist and deposited Marko in a rocking chair. "Put these on. You have blue eyes, so you should always be wearing sunglasses," he scolded, unclipping a dark pair from his collar. Alex hurried inside and went straight to the banana yellow phone.

Marko's hair stuck to his neck and cheeks, and he irritably tried to hold it away from his face. He yearned for another breeze to roll by and relieve him. The sunglasses protected his eyes and allowed him to see the beach more clearly. The sunlight had turned the area unbearably bright. That must have made him dizzy earlier, and he was dressed too warmly for the beach. Marko massaged his chest and took a steady breath. He never wanted to feel breathless again. It was like his body forgot how to breathe, and he needed to fix it somehow. His throat ached faintly from his panic; his entire mouth went dry, saliva becoming thick.

The weightlessness returned when his cousin reappeared. Marko heard words like home and water, but he didn't remember moving to the convertible's passenger seat. Alex drove quickly up the sandy slope, dodging the determined beachgoers. He turned on the radio quietly and sped to catch the wind. The breeze ripped at their hair and tousled it into tangles. Marko rested against the door and was already fast asleep.

* * *

Marko stood on the sand dunes and stared blankly at the empty beach. The umbrellas protected no one, and the towels laid by themselves. A beach ball rolled away and flew several feet into the air. The wind dropped it into the ocean where it drifted amongst the waves. The sand turned into tiny twisters before spiraling to a stop. The water smacked gently against the shore and called for surfers - anybody. He glanced worriedly up and down the beach. The surf shack hid beneath its rocky outcrop while the boardwalk stretched outward to his right. He could see the dock that he rid underneath with the boys. The tide hung back and revealed a short layer of sand between the outcrop and the sea. A dock displayed kayaks, paddleboards, and jet skis, belonging to Marvin's. The forest must be a mile or so away from the beach. Where was everyone? Even the charred bon fire logs were abandoned just before sunset.

Rubbing his exposed arms, he cringed until the last beams of sunlight disappeared. The sun descended into the ocean and left the sky orange and pink. Licking his dry lips, Marko started down the sand dune and nearly rolled forward. He stumbled down the steep slope and collided with the sand. Standing with a disgruntled expression, he brushed the sand away from his clothes and licked his lips again. His throat felt so dry.

His gaze hardened on the ocean, the waves slamming and retreating. He massaged his throat and dashed toward the seawater. Marko scrambled over pails and shovels and trampled a sandcastle kingdom. He threw himself into the shallow water and watched the Pacific recede with wide eyes. He crawled closer until the wave smacked him and drenched his clothes. His fingers dug into the wet sand, thrusting his head into the water. Marko gulped and swallowed the saltwater. He burst through the surface and spat out the sand, coughing roughly. Shaking his head, Marko pursued forward and away from the shallows. His golden hair stuck to his back and floated alongside him. He dipped beneath the surface once more and swallowed the water. The salt turned his mouth sour and burned his chest. Marko punched the water in panic and frustration before a wave passed over his head.

The water grew extremely cold and dark. Marko couldn't feel the sand beneath him. He felt weightless and distended, surrounded by the overwhelming emptiness. Flailing his arms, his body wouldn't move. There was no current. There was nothing sucking him beneath the surface. He felt the waves roll overhead and disappear. Marko kicked at the water and struggled, but he remained in the same spot. Despite the chilled water, his throat still felt dry, and his chest ached from choking on the salt and sand.

There was a voice.

_Marko, Marko, Marko. Marko…_

It grew louder by the moment. It came from all sides and echoed throughout the ocean.

_Wake up!_

Marko opened his eyes and saw his room around him. A quilt was strewn haphazardly around his waist. One of his legs was horribly tangled in the sheets. "Dude," Marko complained and sat up miserably. He leaned forward and gripped his head. The dream was already fading from his memory, but he remembered collapsing on the beach earlier. When did he get in his room?

Sliding out of bed, he noticed that he wore the same clothes as earlier. Someone must have removed his boots for him. Brushing a loose strand of hair out of his face, Marko eagerly plucked an old water glass from his nightstand. He chugged the stagnant water and massaged his throat. It really felt like he had been swallowing saltwater. His throat felt raw, and the sour taste lingered from the dream.

A bright glow filtered through his dark room and reflected through the blinds. He crossed to the window and peered through the slats. Marko saw a dark figure getting off a motorcycle and approaching the front walkway. Alex? Alex had his bike taken away as punishment though. He retreated to his door and opened it quietly. Marko listened and heard his aunt and sister in the living room; The Breakfast Club was playing on the TV. They were laughing and immersed into the comedy. Biting his lip, he sneaked out of his room and saw a shadow flash in front of the window.

Marko beat Paul to the door. He opened it and saw his friend with his fist raised to knock. An amused expression flooded across Paul's face, followed by a mischievous smile. His golden sash stopped tinkling before he spoke.

"Can I come in?" he asked without a greeting.

Shaking his head, Marko pushed Paul lightly on the chest and stepped onto the massive deck. He closed the door silently and beckoned to the far end. "Keep quiet," Marko warned nervously.

"We missed you last night. David sent me, but I was going to come anyway," Paul chirruped, climbing onto the rail. He dangled his boots over the edge and tapped a spot beside him.

Smiling, Marko joined him with a little more effort. The rails were high, and Paul was a head taller than him. He hung his bare feet over the edge and leaned as far back as he dared. The wind was welcomed after his long and exhausting day at the beach. Unlike the other night, the stars were hidden by an army of clouds. The moon just barely shined through with its tiny light. "I know. I'm sorry about that. I wanted to come, but I was so tired. I don't even remember how late we were out."

Paul removed a cigarette from his pocket and hunched over to light it. A small fire blazed to life when the tip caught. He took his time answering and released a stream of smoke. "We weren't out that late."

"I can't really remember."

"I bet you don't. We were just out all night," Paul replied sarcastically. He noticed Marko's confused stare. "You had a good time, right?"

"Yeah, it was the best night ever. Do-" Marko paused when Paul offered him the cigarette. "I don't smoke," he insisted with a grin, waving it away. "Do you guys hang out at the boardwalk often?"

"Uh, yeah," Paul muttered, blowing the smoke like he was whistling. "Don't you?"

"Yeah, of course. I'd rather be there than here. It's just…aren't you worried about the missing people? I mean, I haven't heard anything since coming here. My aunt doesn't want me out at night. She says it's dangerous. I didn't even tell her about the cliff. Everything after _that_ is a huge blur."

Paul laughed loudly and looked away from Marko. His new brother seemed completely serious. "You must be the first teenager that gives a shit. You're not a townie though. Don't worry about it, bud," Paul said, grabbing Marko's shoulder. "They'd have the boardwalk shut down if there was something wrong. It's summer. It's amazing outside, and you're at your house."

Marko sighed with relief and tried to hide his embarrassed smile. "I knew it was nothing. I want to come, but I can't. The folks are pissed at me. I wasn't supposed to be out the other night."

"Then, c'mon. You're already outside. The boys already miss you."

He frowned and gripped the rail, hanging his head. How could he explain this to Paul? Marko felt guilty for considering it. He wanted to sneak off and hang out with his friends, but he already lost his family's trust. If he left again, he'd be screwed when his parents arrived. "I'm really in trouble."

"Live a little. Take a chance. There's only so many days of summer, and you were talking about freedom the other night. When school starts, there aren't as many people on the boardwalk. I can tell you want to." Paul offered the cigarette again. "Take the first step. It's your choice."

He stretched forward and meekly took the small bud. It'd go out in a few minutes. He chuckled and raised it to his mouth. How was he supposed to do this? Marko paused when the convertible rumbled up the short hill and pulled into the driveway. The bright headlights blinded both of them, and they shielded their eyes.

"What the hell?" Paul grumbled. Who had their headlights so bright?

A sharp honk made Marko jump, and he squinted toward the front seat. He saw his uncle glaring at them. "Awww, shit," Marko mumbled. A car door slammed, and Uncle Rick walked up the front steps with a disproving expression. He slid off the rail and forgot that he was holding the cigarette.

"Are you two smoking?"

"No," Marko countered, bringing his arms behind his back. The porch smelled heavily of smoke though. Paul lounged on the rail and wore a wide grin, unphased by Rick's appearance.

"Get down from there. Away with you!" Uncle Rick directed at Paul. He swung his brown paper bag with emphasis.

Paul jumped off the rail and landed gracefully in the garden. He picked his way around the gnomes and glared at the man. Marko needed to come with them before his little brother lost control. He saw the strain in Marko's eyes and the way he reached for his chest without realizing. The bloodlust would grow by the hour. David's blood would not take long to turn him. Paul was surprised that he hadn't discovered some of his abilities yet. Even half-vampires were powerful creatures. He trudged toward his motorcycle and heard Marko's uncle chew him out for the cigarette. He slid behind a patch of trees and straddled his bike, watching the scene play out. Marko must be miserable; he could see his frustration from here. Paul glowered when a woman stepped onto the porch to see the commotion. "Shoulda let me inside," Paul muttered.

His gaze turned toward a male that exited from a tool shed. They made eye contact before Alex stepped closer, almost threateningly.

"My dad told you to leave, so go!" Alex called, pointing to the road.

Huffing, Paul narrowed his eyes and revved his motorcycle. He was used to being kicked off the Boardwalk and out of the coastal stores. David taught them how to behave. He studied Alex for a moment and shook his head. Paul hated to leave and return empty handed, but there was nothing he could do right now. He'd be back.

They went about their business, and Paul returned with David and Dwayne. The town fell asleep aside from the teenagers on the beach. They left when the boardwalk closed for the night. Paul raced up the road with his brothers and revved his motorcycle loudly. Flashing their lights, they illuminated Marko's house and tried to coax him outside. It took a few minutes for the furious man to stumble onto the front porch. Paul whooped and drove down the street, sending small dirt pebbles flying behind him. Dwayne parked his larger motorcycle in the driveway and revved a challenge at the man. Uncle Rick couldn't do anything to them. Paul heard David chuckle when Rick threatened to call the police. Their motors echoed over the farmland and risked waking the neighboring houses.

Paul saw Marko peeking out a window and waved to him. He saw his little brother duck away with his shoulders shaking, laughing his ass off. Marko opened the window and rested his elbows on the sill with a smug expression. He enjoyed the sight but didn't dare slip outside. "You better leave guys! He's really callin the cops!" Marko shouted down at them.

"Screw them!" someone yelled. Marko couldn't tell which one shouted it. He made eye contact with David and smirked, shrugging his shoulders. He found all of this terribly amusing. It was the middle of the night, and Paul brought everyone for round two. Marko watched his uncle march onto the deck with a baseball bat raised over his head.

"Get off of my lawn!" his uncle cried, waving the bat over his head. "The police will be here any minute! Just you wait!"

Marko felt imprisoned in this wallpaper room. After his night with the boys, he wanted their life. He wanted their freedom and their fearlessness. They all remained outside despite the threat of being arrested. They deserved better when they came to retrieve him twice. He jumped when Alex peered out his window beside him.

"Marko, you're fuckin insane. You know that?" Alex asked. He narrowed his eyes and stared at the escapade more clearly. "You were hanging out with _them_? I thought I recognized the other one. You're in so much trouble. You have no idea, Marko. No idea."

"Lay off! I think it's funny," Marko retorted and pushed his cousin away. He leaned forward once more and watched Paul wheelie down the street. Why couldn't he be with them right now? Paul showing up earlier made his day, and it was like they were teasing him. Marko wanted to be beside them and having just as much fun.

The sirens created a pit in his stomach. The police could be heard a few miles before they appeared. The boys were long gone, and the cop car pulled up to an empty driveway. There was no sign of his friends ever being there. His uncle and aunt went to speak with the police officer. The station only sent one, a portly fellow with no neck. It seemed like the disturbance had been routine, and he explained that he could do nothing. Marko watched the car pull out minutes later and disappear down the road.

And if he hadn't been chewed out before, they tripled his punishments now.

* * *

Marko woke the next morning and stood in front of the mirror without realizing. His hands already tied the sides of his hair back. He wiped the sleep away and barely noticed his faded reflection. The sun shined through the slats and permeated the room with a faint glow. He felt like a zombie rising from the dead. Marko opened the door slowly and saw the late time on the cat clock. It was almost early evening, and he slept all day again. He felt like his body was preparing for hibernation. Slinking out of his room, he remembered last night faintly. The police came and scared his friends off with the sirens. His entire family was treating him like a criminal. Marko didn't understand why.

Skylar distrusted him in a sisterly way. His aunt was being overprotective. His uncle's reaction last night made him question himself. Had he pushed everything too far? No, he hadn't. He expected his cousin to be on his side though. Alex warned him about his friends which was painfully stupid. Marko ignored his accusations and told Alex to meet them first. They all gave him strange stares like he changed somehow.

He curled up on the couch and turned on the news. Marko stared at the TV but was trapped in his own thoughts. The house was strangely silent. Alex and his uncle could be at work. His aunt could have taken Skylar into town. They probably didn't want to be around him. He did nothing wrong! He sighed and reached up to rub his throat. It still felt painfully raw. Maybe, he should go see a doctor.

The sliding door from the back porch opened, and his aunt entered and removed gardening gloves. "Marko? Are you finally up?"

He gave her no response and simply turned around on the couch. She seemed really worried. Marko bit his lip with a growing frown. They told him to not watch TV too. They expected him to help around the house until his parents arrived. They probably knew about last night's incident now. He just hoped his parents could forgive him before arriving in Santa Carla.

"Are you sick? You've been sleeping a lot lately." She came over to feel his forehead. "You don't feel warm."

"I'm just tired," he said softly. Marko brought his legs close and avoided eye contact. He could deal with punishment, but he really did feel hated. He expected to have freedom while his parents were away. One mistake made all of it impossible, and that mistake had been the best night of his life. He met three amazing people that listened to him and wanted him to join their group. It was all he could ask for.

"I know we were a little harsh last night."

Marko remained silent.

"We're just worried about you. You've been sleeping all day and not eating. It looks like you're not sleeping well either. Alex said you almost passed out yesterday at the beach. You need to take it easy, hun," she said softly, running her fingers through his curly hair.

He managed to dodge away and clutched a pillow in his lap. "You called the cops on my friends. They just wanted to talk, and Uncle Rick scared Paul off. We were talking."

"You were also smoking."

"Everyone smokes!" Marko cried. Everyone his age smoked and drank and stayed out late. Why couldn't he? They wanted to lock him in this house and keep him away.

"I guess everyone gets drunk and worries their family too?"

Marko huffed and tossed the pillow to the side. She made him feel so guilty about it. "It was an accident! Give me a break! I just wanted friends!"

"If you have to get drunk, those aren't friends. There's plenty of good kids here."

"So, are you saying I'm a bad person? Why don't I just become a hippie? I was already a freak where we lived. There's no point in getting to know people. My family will just scare them away. I see how it is." Marko stormed to his room and locked the door behind him. He sunk to the floor and dropped his head into hands. He really thought this summer was going to be different. Marko pictured the nights in Santa Carla after his parents announced the vacation. There'd be people like him. He'd fit in with others and ride his motorcycle with them. They'd explore until the sun came up and flirt with girls. Nobody would make fun of his style again. They wouldn't call him reckless for riding a motorcycle, not when everyone else rode them. He pulled his legs close to him and leaned his side against the wall. He'd have friends. His family would trust him. He wouldn't feel alone. There wouldn't be anymore nights where he stared miserably at the ceiling.

_I just want friends. I want to fit in with the boys and be accepted by them. I felt like I knew them my entire life. I never met friends like them before. They wanted me. They wanted me to hang out with them, to be one of them. _

He hugged himself and pressed his palm against his chest. Marko closed his eyes and relaxed until his breathing slowed. He stood and laid on his bed, smothering his head into the pillow. His fingers clutched the blankets and yanked them close. Marko hoped the boys still wanted to hang out with him after last night. His heart skipped a beat when he thought about it. There might be a chance that they hated him now. His uncle called the police on them for shit's sake. What are they going to think? His family made it clear. They warned him not to hang out with those boys.

Marko ignored the noises around him. The convertible rumbled into the driveway about an hour later. A motorcycle engine grumbled around sunset. Alex must have taken his bike to work because his uncle needed the car. Why were they hating on him? Alex sneaked out with him those nights ago. He came back a few hours sooner and escaped imprisonment. Marko bet his cousin went to work, completed his shift, and hung out with friends straight afterward.

His breath came unevenly. He continued to ignore the noises outside. Marko ignored his aunt when she knocked on his door, calling him for dinner. He wasn't hungry. His stomach felt empty, yet he didn't feel like eating. His throat burned while his chest ached worse. It became harder to breathe. Marko bit a pillow and tried to relax, anything to relieve the uncomfortable pain. Sweat slicked over his forehead. The room felt warm like the heat waves returned and were dancing in his room. What was wrong with him?

Falling asleep, Marko held his blankets close and curled up tightly. He twitched in his sleep and felt cold all at once. It was dark all around. Was he floating? His body felt so weightless. Marko struggled to move and only succeeded in turning sideways. He righted himself and felt the air become thick. It was so hard to breathe. It was becoming thicker, and his chest was burning. Was he breathing at all?! Marko groaned and clawed at his chest. It hurt so badly! His chest was constricting on his lungs once more. A chill crept up his spine from the eerie cold, followed by a dark chuckle. Where was it coming from? "Help me!" he cried. He stared at his surroundings, the endless dark mist. The chuckle came again and sounded closer.

_Marko…_

David? Was he here? He grabbed his throat and hunched forward. The ache spread to his mouth and jaw like his skull was on fire. "H-Help!" Marko screamed and coughed, crouching and trying to breathe.

_Marko, Marko, Marko, Marko._

Each time his name was spoken. It came from all directions. The pain refused to subside and tightened its hold on his chest. "Please!"

He fell directly out of bed and collided with the wooden floor. A shock passed through his body and ignited a wave of pain. He groaned and glared at his bedside. Why did that fall hurt so much? His bed sat only a few feet off the ground. Marko felt like he tumbled over at full force, or he could have imagined it.

Taking a shaky breath, he stood and froze in place. He narrowed his eyes at the window and saw the darkness. He grabbed his riding jacket off the floor and pulled on his boots. As he neared the window, Marko cautiously opened it and saw a lone motorcycle at the bottom of the driveway. Ducking his head, he crawled through the opening and tried to be as quiet as possible. Licking his lips, Marko closed his window and crossed quietly down the steps. Paul caught him just as he stumbled.

"I've got you, Marko. Don't worry," Paul consoled softly, wrapping an arm around his waist.

"My bike is-"

"No, you're riding with me tonight. We're not going far, and the boys are waiting," Paul whispered and helped Marko to his motorcycle. His brother needed to feed. Marko looked ill and would have been extremely weak in the morning. The sunlight could have hurt him if David's blood forced the transition. Half-vampires were susceptible to the sunlight too, but it often depended on the blood's power and the person. The pain must be unbearable. Marko was breathing heavily and standing seemed to be a struggle for him. He slid onto his motorcycle and assisted Marko, making room for him. "Hold on tight, bud."

Marko edged onto the motorcycle with Paul's help. He wrapped his arms around his waist and pressed his head against his friend's dark jacket. He breathed raggedly and closed his eyes as they coasted down the road. Marko pictured their surroundings as they rode through the deserted town. Not many people drove at night and left the streets wide open. The motor was deafening and echoed down the empty lanes. They didn't stop once, so Paul must have ignored the stoplights. The wind tore at them as they picked up speed, and Paul ripped around corners. He tried to focus on the coastal town, the beach houses, the stores, the boardwalk near the water. He needed to distract himself from the pain. Marko groaned into Paul's back and hugged him tightly, trying to relieve the burning ache.

They stopped at an intersection. The stoplight showed bright green, and Paul turned to check on his little brother. He adjusted Marko's grip and pulled him close again. He reached backward and massaged Marko's right thigh, showing him that he was there. "Just hang in there. We'll find them, and it'll be okay," he promised. The motor garbled and began to thrum with life, shooting them down the road. Marko opened his eyes faintly and watched the streetlights. Several of the shops were still illuminated with neon signs, but most of them were bars. The lights blazing past made him nauseous, so he closed his eyes tight and hugged Paul close again. He felt thankful for the comfort.

"We're almost there, Marko. I wanted to come yesterday. It would have been easier on you. I'm sorry for not trying harder. I know it hurts," Paul apologized over the motor. He wanted to keep Marko's mind occupied.

The motorcycle turned off road and followed a lone beach trail. They traveled slower. Paul didn't want to jostle his bike too much. He warned Marko softly to lower his head in case of lone tree branches. When the bike breached the sand, a fire glowed in the distance. Paul surged forward and saw David and Dwayne waiting for them. He parked his bike and allowed Marko to hang onto him. The beach smelled heavily of blood and death. The fire crackled and spat embers into the sky. Dwayne stood near his motorcycle with an excited expression. David held a male by the hair and forced him to the ground. They must have beaten the boy and stifled the fight within him. The bodies were burning in the flames - routine. His brothers must have fed already.

"How is he?" David asked.

"Been better," Paul replied and helped Marko to his feet. He saw David nod and released him. Paul laughed as Marko fell to his knees. His little brother was weak and hungry. He stepped away and joined Dwayne off to the side. It grew quiet as they watched him. The only noise was the waves, crackling fire, and the boy's whimpering.

Marko crouched in the sand and dipped his head breathing heavily. His chest burned from the inside out. He dug his fingers into the ground and vaguely saw David with the male. The fire nearly blinded him, and the glow wavered around them. A sheen of sweat layered his skin. Marko heard his heart beating in his ears and crawled forward slowly. He stared curiously at the boy until his eyes found his throat. Just faintly, he could see the vein and listened to the blood pounding through him. His eyes glowed deep gold and were rimmed in crimson. Fangs protruded from his lips as he fought the bloodlust. His breath caught when David lifted his hand from the boy's throat. The older vampire scratched the human's pale neck and drew blood.

He raced forward with a strangled snarl and bit the male. Marko sunk his fangs in deeply and felt the blood rush into his mouth. He moaned softly from the sweet taste, and he felt the blood easing his thirst. His arms wrapped tightly around him and restrained him. David backed off and watched Marko feed with the others. He drank deeply and spilled blood in his urgency. It dripped down his chin and down the male's neck. Marko closed his eyes and moaned with each sip. His pain faded gradually, and he grew stronger while the teenager weakened. His fingers clawed into a death grip and held the boy's jacket tightly. His fangs locked deeply into his neck. Marko drank greedily. The bloodlust consumed him during his first kill. The male tumbled to the ground, and Marko leaned over him and didn't waste any of his blood. He paused when he no longer tasted blood and released his fangs. Marko licked his lips and finally noticed the boys.

Paul and Dwayne were whooping, and David clapped his hands with a proud smile. David crossed to Marko and rested a hand on his shoulder. He leaned down and made eye contact with the newborn. Marko's eyes still glowed golden, and his bloodstained fangs were bared. He swiped his thumb over his chin and cleared the warm blood away. David sucked on his thumb and watched the boys drag the body to the fire. Marko would be weak and confused as he finished turning, but they would take care of him. "You're one of us now."


End file.
